


Sidney's Strawberry Stand

by itsacoup



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsacoup/pseuds/itsacoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The Halifax Seaport Farmer’s Market is a haven of locally-produced food and goods, and as such, it’s highly competitive among vendors to reserve a stall inside. Sidney likes the idea of being in among the bustle but doesn’t much like the bother; there’s too many people who want to tell him exactly how he has to run his stand if he wants in. Instead, he squats outside the Market once a week, just him and his table and his truck and his wares. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sidney sells strawberries. Geno wants something sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sidney's Strawberry Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading, I need everyone to go appreciate [this lovely work](http://evgenigenomalkins.tumblr.com/post/114671354723/is-it-strawberry-season-yet-x) by [evgenigenomalkins](http://evgenigenomalkins.tumblr.com/)! It's utterly gorgeous and also the sole inspiration for this indulgent bit of meet cute fluff.

The Halifax Seaport Farmer’s Market is a haven of locally-produced food and goods, and as such, it’s highly competitive among vendors to reserve a stall inside. Sidney likes the idea of being in among the bustle but doesn’t much like the bother; there’s too many people who want to tell him exactly how he has to run his stand if he wants in. Instead, he squats outside the Market once a week, just him and his table and his truck and his wares.

 

Much to his surprise, Sidney’s Strawberry Stand gains itself a bit of a cult following during the first year, so he returns with more strawberries the next spring. He enjoyed spending his Saturdays out in the fresh sea air, chatting with Deb and Mike and Sue and all of his other regulars, so it’s no hardship to do it again. This year, he brings more strawberries every week, and yet somehow each Saturday he runs out a little bit earlier--and he has more regulars each time, too.

 

This particular Saturday, Sidney has his normal array of strawberries plus a couple of bunches of sunflowers--Steve next door had given Sidney the seeds, and the flowers did a lot better than he had expected. Sidney’s fond of the brightness of the yellow, and he’s already had quite a few bought off of him, though he hadn’t planned to sell them.

 

Sidney’s also already more than halfway through his truckload and it’s but 9:30 in the morning. He’s taking advantage of a lull in customers to place out more berry baskets, filling the empty places on his table, when he notices one of the strawberries on top is on the far edge of ripe, more than most customers like because of the resultant dark color. It’s Sidney’s favorite kind of strawberry, though, when it’s the sweet that punches you rather than the tart, so he decides to remove it from the basket to preserve his image of perfectly ripe strawberries.

 

The strawberry is already more than halfway to his mouth when he glances up and realises there’s a new customer. Sidney pauses because he can’t help himself; tall, dark, and handsome was always a weakness of his, and this one has a friendly smile playing on his hound-dog face. Staring too long is a little weird, as Taylor loves to remind him, so Sidney completes his halted motion, popping the strawberry in his mouth and neatly biting the hull off, tossing it into the bed of his truck. He’s still chewing when the guy steps a little closer and leans in, asking “any good?” and giving Sidney a smoldering sort of look.

 

Sidney nearly chokes. He manages to moderately smoothly cover his reaction with a cough, for the first time basically ever. Sidney swipes his tongue over his teeth--not like he ever actually catches strawberry seeds when he does that, but hope springs eternal, and apparently it’s his lucky day--and smiles, though he feels it turn from friendly to goofy in a second: _damn_ it.

 

The guy is still grinning back, though his eyebrows are raised a little, and Sidney finally remembers that he was asked a question. “Oh, uh, I think so,” Sidney stammers, and the guy’s grin grows a little wider.

 

“Sidney’s Strawberry Stand,” the guy reads from Sidney’s shirt, and Sidney notices the guy’s accent as it curls around his name. “You’re Sidney?”

 

“The one and only,” Sidney says, and he feels himself flush under the guy’s scrutiny of him, so he looks down to shuffle around the berry baskets, make room for more. A hand inserts itself into his vision, though, and he looks back up and the guy’s even closer, thighs pressed right up against the edge of the table between them.

 

Sidney takes his hand, and shakes it, and the guy says, “I’m Geno,” tongue peeking out to run along his bottom lip as he smiles. Sidney lets out a high-pitched, strangled giggle, and immediately wants to run off and jump into the harbor to escape from how goddamn embarrassing he is. Geno squeezes his hand a little--oh, look, he hadn’t even realized they were still touching, and it’s in that moment he notices how big Geno’s hand is, how broad--and winks at Sidney before letting go.

 

Unfortunately, a line has formed behind Geno, and first in it is May, who’s watching with a undisguised look of glee on her face. “Who’s this, Sidney?” she asks, and Geno whirls around, looking startled by the line.

 

“Good morning, May,” Sidney says, instead of answering her question, and tries to will away the blush he knows is on his face. Geno turns to look at Sidney again, and Sidney smiles helplessly at him.

 

“Be back later,” Geno says decisively after a second glance at the line. “Nice to meet, Sidney,” and Sidney can’t even strangle out an answer before he sweeps off, leaving him with the conniving grin of May.

 

“How many pints would you like?” Sidney asks her, without any hope whatsoever that he’s going to escape her inquisition.

 

Forty-five minutes later, Sidney is all out of strawberries and sunflowers and has mostly forgotten Geno. Actually, that’s a blatant lie--he’s thought about Geno practically non-stop, but he’s also given up on Geno reappearing. Sidney’s folding up the table and lifting it into his truck bed when someone clears their throat behind him. He turns, and there Geno is, staring at his--well, presumably Geno was previously staring at his ass. Geno raises his gaze slowly, eyes clearly darting to take in Sidney’s arms and chest, before meeting Sidney’s eyes and smiling a crooked and altogether _filthy_ smile.

 

“Strawberries all gone,” Geno says, and Sidney is trapped under his gaze, caged in by his frank interest. “Didn’t get to try, very sad. They were sweet?”

 

Sidney licks his lips, slowly, and says, “Not all gone--for a very special customer, I might have more.”

 

“Am I a special customer?” Geno asks, and he steps closer, until Sidney has to crane his neck in order to meet Geno’s eyes under the bill of his cap.

 

“Hmm--I don’t know,” Sidney teases, faking a thoughtful expression even as his heart races.

 

“Please,” Geno says, prettily but with a rough edge, and Sidney swallows hard at the sound. He doesn’t bother to answer, just turns to reach under the tarp on the truck bed, pulling out the pint he always saves for himself. He turns and offers it mutely to Geno, who’s inched closer in the meantime--the berry basket brushes lightly at both of their chests.

 

Geno looks down and then back up at Sidney. “Lots of strawberries,” he says, and Sidney swears he can feel the rumble of Geno’s voice through his bones. “But I don’t know strawberries like Sid does. Maybe you pick one for me?”

 

There’s a dark red strawberry perched right on top of the pile, just like the one that started this whole thing, and Sidney carefully brushes the leaflings up into a bunch with his fingertips and picks it up by the crown. He tips his head back up, holds the strawberry up, and holds his breath. Geno’s eyes are dark, and his expression intense, but it lightens and he gives Sidney a crooked little smile and a tiny nod at Sidney’s hesitation.

 

Sidney stretches up, and Geno bends his head forward a little, wrapping his lips around the strawberry without breaking eye contact. Geno bites and chews thoughtfully as Sidney wrangles his nerveless fingers into throwing the hull into his truck bed. “Very good,” Geno pronounces. “But not most sweet thing here, I think, and I want taste of that.”

 

Geno takes the berry basket from Sidney, reaching to drop it none too gently into the truck bed. He steps fully into Sidney’s space and grips the bill of Sidney’s cap, tugs it off and lets it fall onto the tailgate so he can cradle the back of Sidney’s neck in his, yup, enormous and deliciously warm hand. Sidney’s eyes flutter close, and there’s the hot velvet press of lips against his own. Geno sips kisses and Sidney’s hands come up to grip at Geno’s shoulders, which he’s grateful for doing when a scant second later Geno runs his tongue along Sidney’s lower lip and Sidney’s knees go weak.

 

Sidney opens his mouth and honest to God _whimpers_ as Geno gets the taste he wanted. Geno pulls away too soon and Sidney makes a wordless noise of protest, opening his eyes dazedly. Geno’s grinning smugly, lips shining, and Sidney says, a little indignantly, “that’s _hardly_ enough time to know which was sweeter.”

 

Geno throws his head back and laughs, shoulders shaking. “Have to make study of it?” he asks, eyes crinkled in mirth. “Write paper, Sidney versus strawberries, which is most sweet?”

 

“It’s important to be thorough,” Sidney says primly. “I don’t want you going around tarnishing my good name. Or my strawberries.”

 

“Okay,” Geno says, placing a proprietary hand on Sidney’s waist. “Eat lots of strawberries, then. Be very sure they sweet.” Sidney scowls and squeezes Geno’s shoulders, and Geno laughs again. “What, something wrong? No strawberries?” Sidney leans up instead of answering, drops a firm kiss on Geno’s mouth that ends with a little nip, and Sidney’s the one laughing now, mostly at Geno’s dumbfounded expression.

 

“Okay, lots of study to do, not just on strawberries,” Geno concedes, and Sidney gives a victorious little “hah!” “But first, food. Want brunch? Brunch is best meal, know good place close by.”

 

“I’ve got some free time,” Sidney says, and Geno smiles big, letting go of Sidney’s neck to grab his hand and tug. Sidney barely has time to flip up the tail of the truck, leaving his hat behind, before Geno is dragging him down the street, raving about the pancakes and the bacon and the fresh-squeezed orange juice at wherever they’re going.

 

Brunch is pretty good, but the kiss Geno gives Sidney after they exchange phone numbers is sweeter still than the maple syrup that was on their pancakes.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello at [tumblr](itsacoup.tumblr.com)!


End file.
